Here's a not so short one to put you on whilst I work on a special four parter, and think about one that is under development.
This one is based in England, so please bear in mind that our special emergency call number is 999, rather than the American 911.
The Visitors
(My thanks to SteveZ for yet again his tireless editing.)
Brian was busy at home that Friday night; he had had a rough day at work, and was looking forward to an evening in as Barbara. Yes, Brian liked to get done up on a weekend, where possible, and dress himself up as his female alter-ego.
He drew the curtains. It was early December, so it was dark when he got in. No one would think anything about his curtains being drawn; most of his neighbor's were already drawn, also. He got everything ready for his tea, then went upstairs and got shaved so as to minimize the five o'clock shadow. He got his overnight clothing ready, stripped off, then climbed into the shower.
A lovely hot shower was just what he needed. The heat and the water jets soothed his aches and stresses away until finally he turned the water off, climbed out and dried himself off. He stepped into a pair of cotton panties, tucking himself in carefully so as not to trap any delicate part of his anatomy. Sitting down on the toilet seat, Brian checked his legs. They were fine, no need to shave them this weekend, so turning up the legs of his tights, slipped one foot into the toe, and unfurled the leg of the black tights up his. Then, doing the same for the other leg of the tights, he slipped his other foot into the toe and gently pulled this up his leg. Standing, he completed pulling the tights up, adjusting the seam to be central in his crotch.
Next, he stepped into the leg holes of his panty girdle, pulling this up snugly to put some pressure on his penis; oohh, that felt so good, it was getting excited already. Picking up his lacy white bra, he slipped his arms through the straps and fastened it around his back,
adjusting the underwired lacy cups under his own masculine breasts. He was about to reach for his breast forms to put those in place when the front door bell rang! "Oh, shit!"
Brian quickly grabbed his jeans and jumper. He stepped into the jeans, his nylon clad legs sliding in so easily, and pulling his jumper over his head, he went down to answer the door.
'Who the hell's this?' he thought. 'At all the times to call, why now!? It better not be those blasted Jehovah's Witnesses!'
The bell rang again as Brian got to the door. Slipping the key in the lock, he opened it to find two men standing outside, sheltering from the rain.
"Oh, good evening, sir, may we come in?" the first asked. He was wet, disheveled and somewhat unshaven. The other was also wet, and not much better to look at than the first.
"Sorry, I don't know you, why would I invite you into my house?" Brian asked in disbelief, and indeed, angry at being disturbed during his preparations.
"Well, if you don't, I'll be forced to shoot you, then we'll come in anyway!" the man replied, showing Brian the gun he had hidden behind his back.
"Oh, my God." Brian could do nothing but back away, and let the two enter. They did so, closing and locking the door behind them.
"Now, we don't want to hurt you, we just need somewhere to hide out for a while. Just until the police search goes away. Could we trouble you for something to eat, please?" Even considering that the two had forced their way into his house at gunpoint, Brian was finding this rather exciting, and one of the men at least, was very polite.
"Err, yes, you better come through to the kitchen. I'll get the kettle on, and see what there is in the fridge."
Brian led the way to the kitchen, where one man sat down to watch over him, whilst the other disappeared.
"Err, where's your, err, where's your friend gone to?" Brian asked nervously.
"Jim? Oh, just checking if there's anyone else in the house. Why, is there?"
"No...no...no, there's nobody else in." Brian was too flustered to think straight now.
The sound of footsteps could be heard upstairs as Jim searched the bedrooms. Minutes later, the toilet flushed and Jim came back downstairs. He leant over and whispered in his companion's ear. "Chris, you need to check out the bathroom!" he said quietly, too softly for Brian to hear what had been said.
Passing Jim the gun, Chris went upstairs. Again, the toilet flushed and minutes later he came back down, drying his hair with a towel, and holding the skirt and blouse Brian had put out for his evening wear.
"Well, sunshine, is there something you want to tell us? Or do we have to ransack the house to find someone hiding?"
Brian looked down at his feet, his semi-bare feet clad only in black tights. He had dashed down without getting his slippers or shoes on to answer the door. This evening could surely not get any worse, could it? "No, there's no one else here," he started. "They're mine, I was getting changed when you rang the bell!" he finished defiantly.
"Oh, well, you mean that you like to dress up, do you?" Brian could only nod. "Well, you're in luck today! If it had been some of the other prisoners, you would be getting sodomized by now. But Jim and I were inside for computer fraud, so we're quite gentle. Tell you what, how about you finishing getting dressed up, and you can serve us up with some food in drag. You're slim, I bet you turn out quite good, don't you?"
"I prefer the term 'en femme', actually," Brian corrected carefully. 'Wow, this evening might be fun, after all,' he thought.
Chris tossed the towel to Jim. "Watch the food a few minutes, Jimbo, I'll make sure he doesn't do anything silly. Come on then, let's get you 'en femme' then."
Chris and Brian went upstairs, and Brian went into the bathroom. Chris passed him the skirt and blouse, and said, "I'll wait out here for you. Don't be long now!"
Brian was trembling with anticipation, and probably a little scared, too. But, he dropped his jeans, pulled off the jumper and picked up a satin chemise from the basket, slipping that on. Opening the bathroom cupboard, he took out his breast forms, then maneuvered them into place in the bra cups, checking that the nipples where just covered by the lacy fabric. Slipping the blouse on, he then stepped into his tight black mini skirt, pulled it up into place and adjusted the back vent to be central, then opened the bathroom door.
"Err, I just need a couple more items from the bedroom, would you mind?" he asked Chris, who was standing on the landing trying hard not to laugh, judging by the look on his face. Well, the sight of a man dressed in a satin blouse, short skirt and tights was bound to amuse some people. He just nodded to Brian.
Brian walked past carefully, the tight skirt helping him keep his stride shorter, more feminine. He entered the bedroom, closing the door a little as he did so.
The phone was gone, of course, but with Chris just outside the door, there was no way he could have made a call to the police without being overheard. He sat at the bedroom dresser, opened his makeup drawer and made himself up, thankful he had managed to shave before all this started.
He applied his foundation, then eye shadow and lipstick. A little powder and blusher and, checking his reflection, decided that was okay. He stood, then opened the wardrobe, and pulled out his black high heel knee high boots and an auburn wig. After slipping the wig on, he stepped into the boots, pulling each up as high as they would go. Stepping again to the mirror, he checked his wig was in place, that his makeup was still okay, took a deep breath and opened the door.
Chris was looking forward to seeing what a sight this bloke was going to look like when he opened the bedroom door. He had looked ridiculous when he came out of the bathroom, dressed as a woman with a crewcut. When the bedroom door opened, he looked, then looked again! Incredible, this guy looked like a woman, rather a pretty one, too! Amazed, he could only stare as this tall woman stood looking back at him.
His eyes went up and down. He took in the high heel boots, the shapely legs clad in black nylon, up to a very tight, very short mini skirt. Up to a satin blouse, straining at just the right places, wow, what a bosom, up to a very tidy face, topped off with what must be a top quality wig. Amazing what some makeup and the right accessories could do, he thought.
Brian stood looking as Chris' jaw dropped. 'Wow, I must have turned out all right, either that, or he hasn't seen a real woman for a LONG time!'
Chris seemed to have difficulty in finding his voice at first. "Hrruumph, right, shall we go downstairs? The food must be ready by now," he said, quite flushed for some reason.
The two went down the stairs, Brian leading, Chris watching his bottom sway from side to side. They entered the kitchen to see Jim at the table, just finishing laying three places. Jim looked up and saw Chris and Brian, and dropped the plate he was carrying.
"Shit! Where did she come from? Where's the guy?" he asked Chris.
"This IS the guy!" Chris replied with a smile.
Jim's jaw also dropped, nearly as far as the plate. Thankfully, it had been over the table at the time, so had not shattered.
"Hi, my name's Barbara, may I finish laying the table for you, then we can eat?" the apparent foxy woman offered, in a reasonably feminine voice that Brian had been practicing at.
Jim just backed away and watched Barbara sashay around the table, putting the final touches in place, then getting the food out for the men. The two sat down and Barbara leant over their shoulders, her breasts just brushing their arms as she placed the food in front of them. She got her own food, and sat down opposite them to eat hers.
The food was good, and all three enjoyed their meal. The men's first hot food for days, and their first for months without fifty others shoving and shouting around them. Barbara enjoyed hers, too, it was the first time she had had guests whilst fully 'en femme'. Whilst the situation was not fully to her liking, she was going to enjoy as much of this as possible.
They finished their meal, then Barbara dried whilst Chris washed up and Jim put away. It was becoming quite a cozy evening, all in all. They went into the lounge and sat, talking for hours. For all their rough appearance, the two men were in fact quite intelligent and educated. They talked for hours, then about eleven, Chris stood up. "Well, I think the police search has passed us by now, it's probably a good time for us to be on our way."
"Oh, right, well, err..." Barbara started to say, when Jim cut her off.
"But what about her? We can't leave her like this; as soon as we're out the door, she'll be on the phone to the cops!"
"No, I won't, I've had such a wonderful evening."
"Sorry, Barbara, but Jim is right. Look, I'll tie you up, upstairs on your bed. That way you'll at least be able to be comfortable, sort of, anyway. You'll probably be able to sleep as well, and you'll free yourself come the morning, or I suppose we could ring the police for you late Sunday," Chris suggested.
"Well, if you insist, though I'd rather you didn't, but I could help you, you know. I could give you some clothes, make you up and even give you a couple of my old wigs. The police would be looking for two men, not two women out for the night?" Barbara suggested hopefully.
Jim looked at Chris, panic in his eyes, shaking his head, but Chris he could tell, was giving it serious thought. He nodded.
"Okay, then, let's do it. What do we have to do, Barbara?"
"Well, first of all, you both need to get shaved, then shampoo your hair, and while you're doing that, I'll dig some suitable clothes out for you both. Then, whilst Jim has his shower, I'll dress you and do your makeup, then I can do his. Okay, Chris?"
"Yeah, let's go for it!" Jim was still shaking his head; he had a bad feeling about this idea.
Chris went first, shaving and the shower cleaned him off and made him almost respectable. Barbara passed him some clean panties and a bra through the door. Chris put the underclothes on. They felt like silk on his skin; so this was what they felt like for women, was it?
Chris went into the bedroom for Barbara to do her best, whilst Jim entered the shower, having got shaved.
By the time Jim came out and got dried, finding the bra and panties put out for him, Chris had been made up, and dressed in a spare blouse and mini skirt, complete with tights and shoes. Thankfully, both of them had slim feet, and could fit into some of Barbara's wide fitting shoes. Barbara was just putting the finishing touches to Chris, a couple of pairs of old tights, rolled up and stuck into each cup of the bra. Then a final adjustment of the wig, and she stood back, letting Jim see his friend, as she was now.
"Your turn, Jimbo," said Chris, now looking like a woman who had seen too much in her life. He was not a convincing woman, but in the dark, as Barbara said, the police wouldn't be looking for them.
Jim sat down and let Barbara make him up. He had a slimmer face, and the makeup made him look more feminine than Chris, but still nowhere near Barbara. Another wig, mini skirt and jumper with another pair of Barbara's old shoes and tights completed the disguise.
"Here we go, the final touch, my blonde wig. I think blonde will suit your coloring best," Barbara said, as she applied it to Jim.
"Okay, we need to go now, but I'm sorry, Barbara, we'll still need to tie you up for the night. I'll put the lights out and draw the curtains back for you so that in the morning, you'll be able to see to get yourself free. By then, we'll be well away and changed back, so you won't be able to tell the cops where we are, or what we looked like. Besides, how are you going to explain how you look if you ring them?" Chris said, smiling slightly.
"Hey, Chris, look here," said Jim, who had been opening a couple of drawers in the dresser. "Look what I've found!" He held up a pair of handcuffs, complete with key, some rope and a ball gag and blindfold. "I think our friend here is into bondage!" he chuckled.
"No, please don't tie me up. It's not mine, it's my ex-girlfriend's, she was into that stuff," Barbara stammered.
"Oh, no, I don't think that for a minute. If it was, you'd have got rid of it before now. Turn around and put your hands behind your back, bitch!" Jim snapped.
"Hey, Jim, there's no need for that sort of talk, she's been really nice to us," Chris said.
"Shut up, and hold this rope a minute."
Barbara turned around and did as she was told. Jim slipped the handcuffs onto her wrists, nipping slightly. When Barbara flinched, he threatened to clasp them even tighter if she moved again. Chris did, however, insist he loosen them a little. So, reluctantly, he did turn the key and allow the cuffs to release slightly. Then he removed the key and tossed it into a corner of the room.
"Open wide!" he commanded, and forced the ball gag into Barbara's mouth, pulling it tight behind her head, tying it off tightly. 
He snatched the rope out of Chris' hands, and roughly pushing Barbara onto the bed, grabbed her feet and looped the rope around her ankles, then pulled it tight. Taking a loop, he pulled them up and made her bring her feet up behind her until the heels almost touched her bottom. A tear fell from her eye from pain and fear of what was about to happen to her. Then he looped the rope around the handcuff chain and finished it off by tying it around her waist so that she couldn't move at all. Finally, he placed the blindfold over Barbara's eyes, bent down to her ear and whispered, "If it wasn't for Chris, I'd have raped you, then killed you, you queer bitch!"
Then, turning to Chris, he said, "Right, let's get out of here. The sooner we get clear of this area and we can get out of these clothes, the happier I'll be!"
"What about the curtains?" Chris started to say.
"What about them?! The bitch can stay there forever as far as I care!" Jim said, pushing Chris out of the room and turning the light off, leaving Barbara immobile in the pitch dark, unable to see a thing thanks both to the blindfold and the curtains still being drawn. All she could do was listen for them to leave. 
Finally, she heard the front door open and close, the door lock being turned, then she heard the letter box flap as Jim pushed the keys back through. Barbara listened carefully, and sure enough, she could hear the two men waking away on the gravel drive. Definitely two pairs of feet, good, both gone.
She tensed herself, for she knew from experience this next bit was going to hurt. She had lied about the bondage gear being her ex-girlfriends; oh, yes, it was hers, but being into self-bondage, she had a pair of trick handcuffs. They didn't need a key to release, just in case of an emergency. She had never managed to get herself tied up as tight as she was now. If she were to wait until morning to release herself, she would be unable to do so, as all the circulation would have been cut off. As it was, her hands were going a little numb now, and her thighs were burning with the strain the tight bondage was putting on them.
She twisted a little, and grabbing the heels of her boots with her hands, pulled her legs up even harder. The pain was definite and sharp, but she managed to get a little slack on the chain to the cuffs. Just enough to get one hand near enough to press the quick release catch on the other hand. With one hand free, it was a matter of minutes to release her other hand, then twisting around on the bed, she was able to remove the blindfold. Barbara then inched over enough to turn on the bedside lamp, which gave her enough light to find the knots in the rope. By now, her legs where trembling with the strain, but she had to somehow keep them tight up against her thighs so as to allow her to untie the knots, thus releasing her. Eventually, the last knot came undone and she was able to lower her feet to the floor and sit up on the edge of the bed.
Reaching up behind her head, she was able to free the knot holding the ball gag in place. She stood and almost fell; the pain in her legs was going to be a problem for a while, she could tell. She hobbled to the bedroom door, pulled it open and went into the study. There it was, the phone she used for her computer when on the Internet. Fortunately, there was a normal phone attached as well, but it was under the desk, out of sight. If you didn't know it was there, you would never guess there was another phone.
She quickly dialed 999 and told the police operator that the two escaped convicts were in the area of her house, dressed as hookers in an attempt to evade capture. Barbara was able to give an exact description of her clothes that they were now in, and when the operator asked for her address, she gave it saying that the two men had forced her to do the work on them after they had forced him, Brian, to feed them, waiting on them under the barrel of a gun and indeed, threat of death, before tying him up.
The police soon picked the two up; they didn't even try to hide as the police cars drove up, they were so confident that the police wouldn't be looking for two women, and there was no way that Barbara could have gotten free, anyway.
The police arrived at Brian's just as he had finished getting changed and showered so there was no evidence of Barbara left. The police, of course, believed Brian's story as he was the innocent victim here, and a pillar of local society. Besides, the two convicts were the ones dressed as women, after all.
Brian was just glad that they were the ones who had to explain to their fellow inmates what they were doing in drag when they where returned to jail.
At the trial, Brian just looked innocent when Chris and Jim tried to say that he was the one who had started the drag act, as they called it. One thing he did get the chance to do, whilst no one was looking, was mouth to Jim, "Now who's the queer bitch, then?"
Long before the two would ever see the light of day as free men, always providing they survived, Brian's firm would move him to a new city as his job required him to travel all over England.
